Carol of the Bells
by M. C
Summary: A winter storm forces Robin and the gang to have Christmas dinner with Marian at Knighton. Robin/Marion, Much/Eve. One-shot, COMPLETE


**Carol of the Bells**

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own "Robin Hood", it's owned by Tiger Aspect Productions and BBC Worldwide._

**Foreword:** _This idea came to me as I was pondering why the show never had a Christmas-themed episode or special (I know it was made for the off-season but still). I then saw a chiminea in Home Depot and then the story just emerged from there - it grew far longer and deeper than I expected it to. Expect the usual anachronisms present, as some of the medieval traditions/food/et al mentioned here don't happen until well after the 1190s. The story takes place between seasons 1 and 2. - M.C._

"What are you doing?" Will cast an confused eye at Djaq. The Saracen woman had been digging around in the ground for several hours now. Now she was lumping in armfuls of red clay up and piling them next to the considerable hole.

"Can't you smell it?"

Will was even more confused, taking in an experimental sniff. "Smell what?"

His girlfriend rolled her eyes. "Winter is coming."

"Days are getting shorter and colder, yeah." Will was still in the dark. "So… what's with the clay?"

"We can't keep stoking the fire on the ground." Djaq wiped some sweat off with her clean arm. "We need a dry and stable place to keep the fire when the freeze comes."

"A chimney is too risky for the hideout, Djaq. We'd burn the place down. Not to mention alert the Sheriff and Gisborne to our presence."

Djaq sighed. She loved Will, but like Robin, he sometimes missed the forest for the trees. "It's the basic idea of a chimney, only more simplified. It's good at warmth, but more safe."

She climbed out of the hole and grabbed a stray branch. "Here, I'll show you."

* * *

"We goin' straight now, are we?" Allan quirked an eyebrow as Will and Djaq lugged some form of crude clay vase through the camp and placed it in a cleared out area in direct sunlight. "I mean, we aren't exactly livin' th' high life, but-"

"Does this look like a vase to you?" Will cut in, wiping his hands on his trousers.

"Bit naff if you ask me." Allan took in a better view of Will and Djaq's creation. It was four feet tall, with the top half resembling a usual elegantly curved rimed vase, but the bottom was a bulging, curved three feet wide with a massive hole in the middle. "What is it, some sort of oven?"

"It's called a chiminea." Djaq explained, dipping a washcloth in a basin and wiping her arms off. "When my father was young, he became friends with Otli, an refugee from Tenochtitlan."

"Tenoch- what?" Allan never heard of this place. "Never 'eard of it."

Djaq shook her head and went on. "They made these chimineas to keep warm and cook their food. They were easy to make, and if they broke, they just take more clay to fix it. Otli taught my father how to make them."

"Could we use it now?" Much cut in. He could see where Djaq was going with this new contraption she had made, and the wheels were already turning in his head.

"We have to wait a day to let it set, and then we can use it," Djaq smiled. "The heat from the fire will help the clay harden."

"This, I like," Little John grunted.

A sharp whistle came from behind, and the gang stood to attention. Robin scaled down the valley wall, a spring in his step.

"No need to get up on my account," their leader said breezily, entering the hideaway. He handed a small sack of tax money to Djaq, and set a bigger bag on the dry ground.

"What's that for?" Much asked, rushing over and untying the large bundle. His face fell as he began pulling out leaves and branches. "Holly branches? Evergreen boughs? A Yule log? What am I going to cook out of this?"

"It's December, Much," Robin explained. "Just because we're outlaws doesn't mean we can't celebrate Christmas like everyone else. We just have to be more…"

"Discreet?" Djaq offered.

Robin nodded. "Exactly."

"Ain't gonna be much of a Christmas without the food," Allan interrupted. "Where's the turkey or the mince pies? We don't even have enough for frumenty!"

"Or good wine!" John put in.

"Marian will take care of that," Robin explained. "She'll bring us the food. Much will take care of the rest."

* * *

Marian dropped two silver coins in the priest's hand. "Merry Christmas, Father."

"God bless you, my child." The man breathed as Marian smiled and exited the sanctuary. Making sure to fasten her heavy cloak, she pushed open the doors and out into the bitterly cold air.

"Fancy meeting you here," a familiar voice cut in behind her. Marian turned to see Guy leaning against the outside doorway, tapping a spurred heel on the stone. "Come to seek absolution for leaving a man at the altar?"

"Guy." Marian maintained her composure. "What brings you here?"

"Could ask you the same," Guy glowered.

"I came to pick up the church wine," Marian explained. She held up the medium-sized leather pouch hanging from her right hand.

"It's seven days before Christmas," Guy's eyes darkened with suspicion.

"It's for my father. Apparently having a wayward daughter doesn't rest well with him. He leaves for Lancashire later on today for Christmas celebrations. He has instructed me to stay at Knighton until he returns."

"Seems rather foolish, him leaving you to tend Knighton Manor by your lonesome," he mused, his earlier suspicion gone.

"He was insistent that I get him this. He says the Lancashire wine says, and I quote, 'like horse piss.' He instructed me to buy the wine as a present for his brother and sister."

Guy frowned. "Outlaws might take advantage of the situation."

"Don't abandon Locksley Manor to guard mine. Post guards at Knighton if you must. And I will have my servants."

"Neither the Sheriff or I have the resources to guard both Knighton and Locksley," Guy replied. "He was insistent that I leave Nottingham for a week, saying that he 'doesn't want to deal with me or any outlaws for Christmas.'"

"What will you do?" Marian was puzzled at the Sheriff's behavior. Without collecting the month's taxes, the Sheriff wouldn't have enough to pay for his sickeningly elaborate Christmas Day feasts. If he didn't want Guy around either, then what was he planning? Maybe Vaisey _did_ want a stress-free holiday without Robin pilfering the taxes earmarked for December. Stranger things had happened.

"I'll visit Isabella and Thornton," Guy mused.

"Who?"

"My sister and her husband Squire Thornton."

She frowned. "You never told me you had a sister."

"You never asked me if I did," Guy countered.

"When I first agreed to marry you, you promised me no more secrets," she pointed out. "What kind of man disowns his own kin?"

"She's not my sister," Guy snarled. "As far as I'm concerned, she doesn't exist."

Marian sighed. "And yet you confirm her existence. Is Robin Hood's claim that you tried to assassinate the King also true?"

"Does it look like I have any choice in the matter?" Guy answered evasively.

"More than you know," Marian said simply. "More than the Sheriff or Hood think you do."

"You don't know what Isabella is capable of," Guy growled. "I'd rather be cooped up in Nottingham with the Sheriff than visit her, but the Sheriff was insistent that I go and make amends."

Marian gave Guy a searching look, her breath misting in the air. "Perhaps I was wrong all along."

"Marian…"

She shook her head. "Much was right. My heart belongs to another." As she turned to leave, she added, "If you can't be truthful to me, then who can?"

Guy tried again. "Marian, I…"

Without a word, she left.

* * *

Will rubbed his arms briskly. Overnight, the temperature had plummeted. Even the thick cloak and layered clothing had done little to assuage his shivering. The leaves insulating the hideaway had worked to take the edge off, but the gray skies and morning chill stung.

Robin was faring similarly, his arms firmly crossed as he watched Much struggle to light the fire. The former manservant kept having to warm up his fingers to keep from getting frostbitten as he constantly struck the flint to get a spark. None would take.

"Here." Djaq had wrapped her hands in some scraps of cloth and she was digging into the ashes of the night's previous fire on the ground. She carefully scooped up a small ember from the ashes and quickly transferred it to the chiminea's wood pile. Blowing on the ember, she beamed as the small pile of sticks began to smolder and finally burst into flame.

"Good job Djaq," Robin smiled. Much merely huffed and stalked off to get more wood.

* * *

Marian clicked her tongue, nudged her horse and went from casual trot from full-on gallop. Her father, Sir Edward, had recently departed for Lancashire, wine and food included. It was tempting to go and fulfill her Night Watchman duties early, but after Guy had told her about the Sheriff sending him away for a week to see his sister… it could be a trap. Robin could come, distribute the food and verify Guy's story later.

As she neared the familiar stretch of road, she noticed something small and white drift into her field of vision. Pulling on the reins, she stopped the horse and held out her hand to inspect it. Several small white flakes drifted onto her gloves.

Snow.

Pulling off one glove, she blew a loud and shrill whistle, which reverberated among the eerily silent forest. Within thirty seconds, Robin and his crew emerged from the foliage.

"Fancy meeting you here early," Robin smiled as Marian dismounted the horse. After exchanging a quick kiss, Marian pulled away, unfastened her cloak and pulled another leather pouch off her belt.

"Here. This is the good church wine. I know Much would appreciate it."

"I do indeed!" Much beamed as he quickly took the pouch from Marian. "Thank you my Lady."

"Not a problem," Marian assured him. She went and unfastened several more bags from the horse's saddle. She handed them to Djaq, John, Will and Allan. "Here's some Christmas food. You can cook that, or give it to the poor in Nettlestone and Locksley."

"Any news on the Sheriff?" Robin prodded.

Marian sighed. "Guy is-"

"Still on first name terms with Gisborne?" Robin cut in, giving a disapproving tsk. "Marian, you're not marrying him anymore."

"I'm aware of that." Marian re-fastened her riding cloak. "Do you want to know what he and the Sheriff are up to or not?"

Robin gave her a thoughtful look, then nodded. "I'm all ears."

"The Sheriff has sent Guy away for a week to visit his sister."

"Sister?" Robin looked incredulous. "Surely Guy's not feeding you more lies like he did with that tattoo."

"If he was going back to the Holy Land to try to kill King Richard again, he would need more than a week," Marian shot back. "Furthermore, Guy was loathe to acknowledge her existence and wouldn't be visiting her if the Sheriff hadn't ordered him."

"I'm likin' his sis," Allan chimed in approvingly.

"I agree," Robin said, turning back to Marian. "What about the Sheriff?"

"According to Guy, he doesn't want to deal with him 'or any outlaws this Christmas,'" Marian finished. "Which means he isn't going to be collecting the taxes on Christmas Eve to pay for the feasts."

"That does sound suspicious." Robin grew thoughtful, his brow furrowing. "Could be a trap to lure us to the castle to try and overthrow Vaisey. Or maybe the Sheriff _does_ want a stress-free Christmas without us or Guy interfering."

"I doubt that," Will muttered. "Sounds like a trap."

"Same," John grunted.

"We'll have to play this by ear," Robin said, after a long pause. He turned back to Marian. "You better get back. You don't want to catch your death out here in the cold."

"I'll be fine," she replied. It was then she noticed the snow was getting thicker and the flakes more prominent. A light layer was already coating the ground. "It's you I'm worried about. _All _of you."

"Don't worry about us," Robin assured her, drawing closer to her. "We'll contact you sometime tomorrow." His arms slowly encircled her waist, drawing her closer to his body. She shivered as his soft lips lightly brushed the inner shell of her ear.

"Maybe sooner," he whispered.

* * *

"What do you think?" Marian turned around and stood back.

"Beautiful, my lady," Eve murmured as the two women stood back to admire the view. A freshly cut fraiser fir had been felled and brought to Knighton Manor, where it had been placed in a weighted pot. It had taken considerable time for the two women to set up the tree, but their hard work had paid off. It was now perfectly balanced and stood in the right corner away from the fireplace.

Eve had carefully strung some holly leaves and mistletoe among the branches. The mixture of the bright red and off-white berries in the fir was stunning, especially illuminated by the warm glow radiating from the fireplace.

A light knock on the door broke them out their trance.

"I'll get it," Marian replied. She opened the heavy wooden door, wincing as a gust of cold wind blew in some snow.

"Thanks," breathed Robin as he quickly stepped inside. He threw back his hood as Marian closed the door, his eyes landing on Eve. "What's she doing here?"

"Eve is on our side," Marian cut in.

"She was working for the Sheriff!" Robin burst out angrily.

"I don't work for the Sheriff anymore," Eve cut in. "After that incident with the ledger, he would've executed me. As far as he knows, I've left the country."

"Then why are you still here?"

"I can't just leave Mum and Dad here!" Eve protested. "They depend on me! Trust me, Robin, I would die before I work for the Sheriff again."

"She speaks the truth," Marian put in gently. "She is a hard worker. Eve helps Father out when I'm not here, and she hasn't taken advantage of our company. She loves working here, even in secret."

Robin sighed. He didn't think Eve was a threat to them anymore, but he had to be sure this time. And she had a soft spot for Much while he was Earl of Bonchurch.

"Okay." Lowering his voice, he nodded to Marian and jerked his head to the staircase. "Let's err on the side of caution."

Robin and Marian scaled the stairs and up to the upper landing of the manor. He made sure he and Marion had a good view of the bottom floor so they could see what Eve was doing.

"Me, Allan and Will went to Nottingham yesterday," Robin said quietly. "Aside from the extra guards, nothing was suspicious. I saw Gisborne leaving with a few guards, but he didn't have anything of value on him."

"What about the Sheriff?" Marian prodded.

"That's the thing that bothers me," Robin said. "We didn't see him."

"Maybe he was disguised as one of Guy's guards?"

"It's possible, but no."

Marian tilted her head. "And you would know this… how?"

"Anyone would see that pointy nose or his diminutive stature," Robin smiled. "We could hear him yelling atop the battlement. Something about 'clumsy idiots, can't you walk without slipping?'"

Marian chuckled. "Did Guy go back to Locksley or leave Nottingham altogether?"

Robin shrugged. "As far as we know, he left town."

Marian decided not to press further. "So what Guy said is true."

"So it would seem." Robin nodded.

"You are a thorn in his backside," she smiled. "As well as the Sheriff's. It's not impossible to consider them wanting to take some time off."

"I suppose so," he conceded. The two became silent, mulling the news.

"The snow is picking up again," Marian sighed, eyeing the fat flakes floating past the windows. "Are you sure you and your crew are fine out there?"

"We manage," Robin shrugged. "It's nothing I haven't been through before."

"Until you run out of dry firewood," Marian shot back. She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Why don't you all come here for Christmas dinner? Stay the night."

"Marian, it's too risky." He protested. "Guy's absence and lack of activity in the castle? Too convenient and ripe for a set-up. What if someone else found out that you were helping me? We'd all be hanged."

"Robin, I know. But Eve's not talking and neither am I. And at this rate it would take days for the palace guards to get here," Marian replied patiently. "The thick snow and icy roads work in our favor. By the time they arrive, you would be gone."

"What would you say if someone came over while we were there?"

"You forced me to serve you against my will," she said tartly. "Or if they just saw Djaq and the others, they were friends stopping by for dinner."

Robin gave a mock sigh of resignation. "You have everything covered."

"Good. Arrive Christmas Eve, around six o'clock. Bring turkey and mince pies."

* * *

Robin had barely knocked on the Knighton Hall door when it opened. Marian looked stunning, wearing a similar dress she had the day he fled Nottingham Castle the first time, only this time the white dress was trimmed with silver and green. Eve stood off to the side, looking equally beautiful in a green dress with red accents.

Marian's gaze mirrored Robin's and was pleased that he had taken the time to groom himself for Christmas dinner. His hair and beard were trimmed, making him look younger and more refined. He still wore the tatty outlaw outfit, but he had recently bathed and washed it. He'd also managed to reclaim his fur shawl from his former home in Huntington.

"Merry Christmas! Marian. Eve." Robin nodded, turning to the former and flashing her that devilish smile. "You're looking… striking."

"Are you so smitten you repeat yourself?" Marian quipped.

"Maybe I am," Robin smiled as he took his cloak off.

"Come on Robin, we're freezing our arses off here," Allan protested as Robin entered the doorway and stepped aside to let his crew in. While Robin carried his bow, quiver and a small sack, everyone else had a food item as well as their respective weapons. (Little John was tasked with carrying the turkey.)

Once greetings were made and everyone settled down, Marian pulled the curtains closed on the windows. After that, the eight settled down to eat the huge Christmas feast, precluded by an interfaith blessing from Djaq and Robin. In addition to Much's garlic turkey and the mince pies, there was yeast rolls, roast potato wedges, sweet potato pie, roast quail, green beans, vegetable soup, and sugar cookies. As well as Marian's church wine, Eve had managed to procure some ale too.

Three-quarters of an hour later, Robin finally leaned back in his chair and unbuckled his waistband. The food was unbelievably good… so good that he and everyone else had second helpings. Almost everyone, including the insatiable John, had full bellies.

"Amazing food," Allan breathed, taking a swig from his ale. "Well done, girls. Brill job on the turkey, Much."

"What?" Much was jerked out of his stupor, his hand in Eve's as they gazed in each other's eyes. He and Eve were the only ones who hadn't eaten much after the first plate. Djaq and Will hadn't eaten much either.

Allan rolled his eyes. "Your turkey was great." Despite the sarcasm, his words were sincere.

"Oh… thank you." Much wasn't used to praise from Allan, and he looked abashed.

"He means it, Much," Eve said softly. "It's the best turkey I've had in ages."

Much smiled and squeezed her hand. "I'm glad someone recognizes how good my cooking is."

"Well, don't get used to it." Allan sniffed. Djaq promptly slapped him upside the head.

"Oi, what'd I do?"

* * *

After the filling dinner, Allan had regaled the others with impromptu carols on a lute. He didn't do a good job, the numerous helpings of ale making him slur or forget entire lyrics, but as Eve said, it was the thought that counted. After that, the group decided to retire to bed.

Robin smiled. "Would you look at that."

Marian blew out a candle as she turned in Robin's direction, which was directed at the hearth. "So peaceful," she concurred.

Sir Edward had always kept a large supply of spare pillows and fine blankets stored in case someone or a group of people stayed over at Knighton. Djaq and Will lay spooned together on the left side of the fireplace, Little John was positioned directly in front, while Allan snored contentedly on the right. Much and Eve slept in Edward's bedroom.

Taking the remaining candle, Marian allowed Robin to guide her up the stairs and into her bedroom. He had already turned the bed down, and began to strip down to his white undershirt and cargo pants.

"What?" he asked defensively when she gave him that 'look' as he changed in front of her. "You've seen me wearing less than this."

"Do you not have any sort of modesty?" she asked, blowing out the candle. "Or did you leave that in the Holy Land as well as your sense?"

"Come on," he said, giving her that roguish grin as he approached her. "You like it."

"Turn around," she ordered, stepping away. Robin turned around, grinning, as Marian quickly changed into her slip and nightgown.

"It's beautiful," Robin mused, looking out the window. The snow and clouds had cleared, and the moon shone bright and gibbous in the night sky. "The moon."

"Really?" Marian pulled the pin from her hair, allowing the tresses to cascade freely about her shoulders. Setting the pin down on the nightstand, she joined Robin at the window. "You're right."

Robin turned towards her. "Not nearly as beautiful as you." He pulled her to him, his arms gently but firmly encircling her midriff. His lips left feather-soft trails on her neck as he began kissing it.

Marian sighed, relishing the contrasting textures of soft lips and stubble on her neck. "Robin?"

"Yes?" He didn't stop nuzzling her neck.

She had to be firm. "Let's not go any further than this."

Robin stopped. "Why not?"

"It's Christmas. And I am unmarried. It is not proper to bed me unless we are married. If not, word might spread, word that could get back to the Sheriff and Gisborne."

Robin sighed. "Will you marry me?"

"Perhaps." Marian's tone was thoughtful. "But not now."

She turned towards Robin, his eyes shining with hurt and confusion. "Let's go to bed."

Robin allowed himself to be led to her bed, and snuggled next to her. He said nothing else as she pulled the thick blankets over their bodies.

"Robin," Marian turned to her boyfriend. "It's not me and it's not you. It's the situation we're in. First it was the Holy War, and now it's the Sheriff deeming you an outlaw. The risk is too great."

Robin nodded. "I understand." They kissed deeply before they settled down to sleep.

As Marian drifted off, she heard Robin murmuring.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Merry Christmas, Marian."

"Merry Christmas, Robin."


End file.
